


The Dowry

by bluegarden



Category: Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn & Related Fandoms
Genre: (nothing graphic) - Freeform, Abuse, Domestic Violence, F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Infertility, Pregnancy, Tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23085511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegarden/pseuds/bluegarden
Summary: No one has heard from Huckleberry Finn since 1883. Now, ten years later, her best friend receives a letter.
Relationships: Tom Sawyer/Becky Thatcher, Tom Sawyer/Huckleberry Finn
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

When we were younger, you said you never wanted to get married. I remember looking at you like you were crazy and asking you,  _ Why not? _

Now that it’s happening, I wish you’d still felt that way.

I can still remember going over to get the mail when I saw your name on the envelope. Though I am a twenty-five year old woman, I remember screaming like a schoolgirl.

“What is it, Tam?” Beck, my own husband asked dully. I reckon he was used to me behaving this way, and liked it, too, even if he pretended otherwise. But boy, was he surprised when I told him what it was about.

“It’s Huck! She sent me a letter!”

Beck ran up to my side and gazed at it a while in disbelief.

“Well, are you going to open it?”

I almost didn’t want to. The fact that you had merely touched this envelope made it sacred.

See, I hadn’t seen you in ten whole years. And you was, no, still  _ is _ , my best friend. I ran over to Mr. Douglas’s every day to see if you’d come back yet, most of the time crying, which I still never do. He’d tell me he plumb didn’t know, which made me real angry.

_ “How do you not know?” _ I said one day.  _ “She’s your daughter! She ain’t never had no family but you and you can’t even take care of her! You’re no better than her ol’ Mam, and when she ain’t in jail she’s over beatin’ on Huck!” _

But then Mr. Douglas calmed me down by saying he found out where you were. You were at your Mam’s, and he’d send someone out with a gun tomorrow. So then I got to feeling all bad, but he said it weren’t no matter. He told me I could stay over until he came back. I called up Uncle Paul, and talked him into letting me.

But the man never came back.

It’s been near ten years since then, and here’s your letter. With Beck by my side and being all pestering, I opened it up and felt my stomach tie into its own knot when I’d read what you’d sent me.

_ You, _

_ Mr. and Mrs. Beck Thatcher, _

_ Are cordially invited to the wedding of Henry Bascom and Huckleberry Finn. _


	2. Chapter 2

You’s right. When I was younger, I did never want to get married. I remember the exact look in your eyes when I told you that. You was all surprised-like, your…

What color are your eyes again?

Oh, I can’t remember, and I do feel a mite bad about it. I feel selfish asking this, and even worse hopin’ you’d remember more about  _ me _ . But if not, I get it. I reckon you’d rather forget someone as wicked as me. Maybe you got a husband, so you don’t have time to now. Maybe it’s Bobby, the boy you wanted to marry all those years ago. You  _ was _ always quite the romantic. But nevermind. Whoever it is, I hope you’re happy with ‘im and your uncle ain’t sold you off like Mama did to me.

Well, maybe I shouldn’t be sayin’ it like that. See, it weren’t all bad. I was away from Mama, and Henry was nice a good amount of the time. He was always callin’ me names like “my Huckleberry” and “my girl.” At first I didn’t like those very much, and told ‘im so. Said it made me sound like a servant. But then he told me that that was the regular way to talk about your wife, and so it was all right I s’pose. And whenever I got to feelin’ down, or he felt however he was feelin’ that made him do that, he’d touch me, which I never said nuthin about because I always liked that. He’d wrap his arm around my waist and pull me real close, or sit me on his lap, or pick me up and spin me around ‘til I was laughin’ and feelin’ all right again. Sometimes, he’d even kiss me, and I’d make that little sound that you loved so much and was always tryin’ to get outta me. He’d laugh at me then, and pinch my sides, sayin’ I sounded like a cat.

Yes, I haven’t forgotten that. Ya wouldn’t kiss me, ‘cause you said that was what you did with your husband when you got married and it weren’t right for girls to do anyway, unless it were on the cheek. Ya wouldn’t kiss mine, you said, because it’d be like “eatin’ the dirt under the Mississ’ip.” But you  _ would _ wrap your arm around me, or put your hand on my back, or throw my hair over my shoulder or even just plumb play with it. Or you’d grab my hand all unexpected, or hug me from behind, or pull my arm up and spin around, or whatever else you felt like doin’.

As happy as I am, I do miss ya, and wish you was here. Sometimes I wished I was marryin’  _ you _ , even though you said it weren’t right nor allowed. But I weren’t nohow. I was Henry’s, and so far gone from you I could only guess what house you was livin’ at. Henry knew, though, and wrote it on the envelope after I wrote your name. He knew your husband, he said. Sees ‘im in town sometimes, since St. Louie ain’t far from St. Pete. But he wouldn’t tell me his name. No matter how much I pleaded, or yelled, or cried.

And he wouldn’t hold me neither.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since last chapter was so short, I decided to post this one too. From here on out, though, it'll be one every Monday. I have quite a few prewritten so it should be kept to schedule, but if I ever need more time I'll let you know.


	3. Chapter 3

“Do you think maybe he’s holding her hostage?” I asked, pressing my Sunday dress into my suitcase.

“You think?” Beck looked up from the bed as he was trying to figure out how much money we’d need on our trip.

“It  _ would _ explain why we haven’t heard from her in ten years.”

Beck seemed to mull it over for a while. “Oh, Tam, don’t!” came the final reply.

If this was anyone else, I’d’a said some downright ornery things, but this was Beck. These types of things bothered him more than most men. It was one of the many things I loved about him. He’s not afraid to be sensitive, cry, or show his true feelings. Around me, at least. In public? Well, things were different, but I understood. Boys don’t take too kindly to that sort of thing. So I bit my tongue.

“I’m just saying. Sorry, Beck. I’d just like a reason, you know?”

“Well…” He took a deep breath and lay on his stomach so he could look at me. “Where’s the last place you remember seeing her?”

“The river. We were playing down there, swimming a bit, frying fish, the usual. Then, the next day I went to her room and meow’d, but-”

Beck raised an eyebrow. “Meow’d?”

“It was the signal. What?”

He bit his lip, smiling all dorky. Then, he started to laugh.

“What are you laughing about?” I demanded, crossing my arms, though I was only half into it. I couldn’t be mad at Beck, and especially not when he was laughing so.

“Sorry. Just…the fact that you  _ meow’d _ at her. Like… ‘meow!’” He kneeled on the floor, then jumped up on the bed. “‘Oh! Tam’s here!’”

“Hey!” I scolded as my suitcase hit the floor. But all I could manage was, “She meow’d at me, too.”

Then  _ I _ got to laughing, and we both was laughing something considerable until Beck wiped the tears from his eyes and asked me to keep going with my story. So I said how I did it for a week straight, then went to asking Mr. Douglas during the daytime. I then told the story of how he sent the man to your mama’s house. He paused a second, then pulled me into a hug, which I gratefully accepted.

“I’m so sorry. We’ll find her again. Then I’ll make sure you stay in contact, okay? I do talk to Henry Bascom while I’m on my way home from work sometimes, and if I’d have known he was her husband, I would have put you in contact sooner.”

I nodded. “It’s not your fault, Beck, and I know you would have if you’d a known.” Then a thought came to me. “He never talked about her?”

“No, not really. He only said he got a girl from St. Petersburg, but that was it. I asked who, but he wouldn’t tell me. Oh, Tam, do you think he knew I was your husband and that’s why?”

I felt my back go rigid. “He’s not keeping me from that girl any longer. No one is. Because as soon as I see her, I have no plans of ever letting her go. And whoever has a problem with that can--”

“Tam!”

“Sorry,” I said all sheepish.

Then he chuckled again. “Alright.” He let go of me and patted my shoulder. “Pack your stuff, tough girl, and then we’ll get to the steamboat.”   
  


“The steamboat?”

“Yeah. What else would we take?”

I jumped up and hollered, then ran to my suitcase while Beck watched and laughed at me some more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! It gets SLIGHTLY creepy at this chapter, but it's only a sentence or two so read at your own discretion. Because of this, how short the chapter is, and that I'm four days late you get another two chapters today!

Today’s the day, I reckon.

I knowed I should be excited, but I just weren’t feeling up to it. I didn’t even wanna get out of bed. ‘Til I remembered you, that was. It was a gamble you was coming, and Henry might have sent it to the wrong add-rest just to joke with me. But I held on to the hope you was, because if I didn’t I’d’a never gotten up and then both Mama and maybe Henry’d skin me alive. And Henry’d be as good as Mama, being a trader and all.

So’s I got myself ready in the bedroom with the dress Henry gave me. It was a blinding white, and had a powerful too many layers. The veil was too long, and too decorated for my taste. But there was no time to pick another, and  _ you’d _ like me in something like this, so I wiggled into it like a worm. Then I realized I couldn’t zip it up, so I had to call out for help. There was a bustle, but Henry started yelling and then went in his own self. He zipped it, but not without looking me up and down and sniffing my hair.

I most felt like throwing up for some reason. Then I thought of you, and I pushed it all back. If I did that, or anything wrong, he might not want to marry me anymore and then I would never see you and I’d be more lonesomer than ever.

So I kept mum until he got bored and let me go. Then he told me to put my hair up, shut the door, and left. So’s I did, and we was off to the church.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to you all for sticking around. You can have a LITTLE lesbianism as a treat.

You said to be there at noon, but I was at the church by eleven. I wanted to claim my seat near the front, and see if maybe I could get a hold of you. They wouldn’t let us in, though, so Beck went to walk around town while I waited. I wasn’t moving, and wouldn’t for the world.

By and by they let us in, and sure enough I got my spot in the front. You didn’t have any kin on your side other than your mama, so it wasn’t hard. I even made sure I got the aisle seat, so I could watch you walk down. Beck got there exactly on time, and sat next to me. I’ll never know how that man does it. 

My thoughts stopped as soon as the music played, and I whipped my head around so fast it nearly fell off. My heartbeat was the only indicator of time.

_ Ba-dump (one second), ba-dump, (two seconds), ba-dump, ba-dump-ba-dump-ba-dump-ba-dump-ba-dump-- _

There you were.

My breath caught in my throat the second I laid eyes on you. Your tan skin was contrasted by a white wedding dress that hugged and shaped every curve and crevice of your body beautifully, then strayed away from it in a wave of cream-colored layers like the way birds form when they fly. In your calloused but somehow still small hands were a bouquet of red flowers, and you held them to your middle in a loose, gentle grip just like you hold everything else. Your face was obscured by a sheer white veil which matched your dress perfectly, but I could still make out your features by looking at you from the side. Your brown eyebrows were trimmed by an experienced artist, your soft lips were full and parted, and your eyes that were the color of your namesake were fixated right ahead of you, as if you were determined for something. And your hair…my heart stopped when I looked at that hair. The side-swept bang was braided to the side of your head, the back of it tied up into a partial ponytail that made it look so full. The top glimmered in the sun like a crown of lava, while the bottom stayed a deep brown. I never understood how or why your hair did that, but whenever I saw that optical illusion in the sun I felt like a hostage to your beauty.

“Hucky.” It was the softest I’d ever spoken, the name finally gracing my lips with it’s owner nearby. “Hucky, Hucky, Hucky.”

I paid no mind to the ceremony. I tried, but I’d look at you and you’d take my mind somewhere else. I’d see of your hands twitching, or your foot tapping, or something else and be pulled right under again.

Once I was pulled back to reality by your groom glaring at me. What was his name again? Yours was the only one I could remember.

_ Hucky. _

No one else existed but you.

_ Huckleberry. _

“Huckleberry.”

“Huckleberry Finn, do you take Henry Bascom for your husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for rich and for poor?”

“I-I do.”

“Do you promise to obey your husband, Henry Bascom, in all things?”

“I…”

You scanned the room and looked right at your Mama, who only nodded sharply.

“I do!”

“You may kiss the bride.”

He practically threw his face on yours. I stood up, not to applaud like everyone else, but to push him away. I didn’t even realize I was going forward until Beck grabbed my hand, but I could see he was wincing too. He also didn’t say anything, which I figured he’d normally do. Almost like he wanted me to go, but couldn’t show it.

Then, you walked back up the aisle, holding his hand. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed you right then and there. To touch you, to hold you, to feel you in my arms. I was like a dog on a chain, but in front of the chain was the juiciest, most beautiful-looking steak that ever existed. So I did what every dog dreamed to do and broke free.

It was like a dream, too, running over there and barely touching your arm before I pulled you as close as I possibly could. Had I been able to pull you inside of me, I might have. I felt everywhere I could; your lower back, your upper back, your shoulders, your arms, your hands, your hair, your cheeks. It was forever in a minute.

You never hugged back. But I was just as stubborn as you could be, and you knew it. So I brushed my lips to the top of your head and spoke.

“Hucky.”

Then I heard your muffled cries against my breast. Your weak arms reached up my back and pressed there. How did I not notice how weak you were? You then moved your head to the side like you did when you were going to sleep, and just kept crying and crying as soft as you could, and closed your eyes, like you were hiding.

I just kept whispering.

“Hi, Hucky. Hi. Hi. Hello. Hello, Huckleberry.”

When a pair of big, rough hands grabbed for you, I understood why you were hiding.

Instinctively, I turned to the right, shielding you with my body while I glared at the man who dared try and take you from me. He was watching intently, his expression unreadable.

Then, you came to. You pushed my arm for leverage while you spoke to me.

“Hello yourself, and see how you like it.”

That was the first time in ten years I saw you smile, and I just about had a heart attack.


	6. Chapter 6

We wasted no time with the wedding. If I had to guess, I’d say Mama wanted to go home and get all liquored up again. I didn’t have no problem nohow. So as soon as everybody was up and settled in, she took my hand.

But not before sayin’ a few words.

“I think this’ll be good for you. Teach you how to respect family and be a woman.” She took a deep breath, almost like she was cryin’. “Reminds me of when I married yer pap.”

I weren’t sure what to say, but I knew it was something. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. You think I’d lie to ya?”

“No, ma’am.”

“That’s what I thought. A fool he was, but all men are. They don’t know what we go through. Always expectin’ us to run around servin’ them. But you only need to serve yer old Mama and no one else, got it?”

“Sure. I got it.”

This seemed to satisfy her a lot, and she squeezed my hand a mite too hard before we began walking. I kept my eyes trained up front, on the alter. I could feel a pair of eyes on my side, but I knew I mustn’t look. Not until this day was over.

Mama she dropped me off there and then got to abusing someone for sitting in the front aisle seat. They didn’t say anything, so she just shoved ‘em out of the way. I’s surprised they didn’t respond none.

Me I kept my attention on the priest. He went on and on about how “we are gathered here today to celebrate the con-join-ing of two souls” and “God makes two people to be soulmates and you spend the rest a’ your life tryin’ to find them, but we already done it.” I thought that was downright foolishness, because  _ I  _ was a whole person. I had all the parts I needed, right here on myself. But the priest he didn’t seem to think so.

“Do you, Henry Bascom, take Huckleberry Finn as your wife, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; to be faithful until death should do you part?”

Henry looked at me the entire time, and then smiled at me by the end of it. I felt my heart flutter at that; he was always right handsome. What he saw in me I can’t figure out. His pink lips pulled to the left like always, and it showed both his dimples. His eyes got all bright like when you light a candle in a fully dark room. I felt my cheeks get warm.

“I do.”

Then, he asked me the same thing but with the names reversed, and I said I did. Then, he asked if I was going to obey Henry in all things.

I had to look at you to say I did.

I was feelin’ awful relieved once it was over, and felt even better when Henry told me I did alright.  _ He _ squeezed my hand too, and went to take me out of the church. I thought maybe I could get through today.

Then you ran over, foilin’ my plans with your own. Quite normal of you.

I felt your arms touchin’ me just about everywhere, and I was so surprised and about to strike out but then somethin’ stopped me. I don’t have the words to say what, but something in my head told me I was safe, and I felt it too.

Then you got to whisperin’ my name to me, the one you’d came up for me all by yourself that only you could call me. That just about did it, because I knowed who you was now and why I felt so safe. 

Your’n was the first friendly face I’d seen the whole time I been gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not updating! I've had severe writer's block so I wasn't able to update, but I'm gonna try hard to this week!

“Tamsin Sawyer.”

Beck shut the door of the carriage behind him and trained his eyes on me. “That was quite the scene you caused there.”

“Yeah. So? I thought that’s why you married me. You took one look at me and thought ‘Oh, my love! She’s right out of one of them Shakespeare plays, and I must have her right this--’”

“That’s what you  _ wanted _ me to think. Besides, that’s not the point.”

I threw my hands up in defeat. “What was I supposed to do? I missed her, Beck. And when I saw how Henry pounced on her I wanted to kick him right in his small, limp--”

“Language!”

“It’s true, Beck. I hated seeing him touch her like that. Him and her mama for that matter, too. I don’t like her, and I don’t trust him. All I want is for Huck to be safe for once in her life. And if you’re gonna be mad at me for that, then I’m not sure what to tell you. Sorry.”

“I get that, but you could have waited until after the wedding. It would have only been fifteen more minutes.”

“Yeah. Fifteen more minutes added to ten years.”

Beck didn’t say anything after that, and I was feeling bad, so I spoke again:

“I can’t explain how I felt when she was gone. There was this massive hole in my life, like a piece of me was ripped away. I couldn’t smile without feeling ornery, or laugh without wanting to cry a little. I do see where you’re coming from, and I love you, but I also really need my friend.”

“I love you, too.” Came the quiet reply.

“That’s why it’s Tamsin  _ Thatcher _ . Not Tamsin Sawyer.”

This got a smile out of him, and then we moved on to other things until the carriage stopped. Beck paid the driver and got out. I took his outstretched hand and stepped down myself, then went to look at the house in front of us.

True, it was  _ Henry’s _ house since your ma didn’t have much of one anyway, but the size and look of it more than made up for this change of the story. It looked  _ just  _ like King George’s house! Well, how I imagined it, anyway. It was a real nice grey with tall, steel walls. The windows were the most orderly ones I’d ever seen, going down and across the home in perfect rows. I took Beck’s arm, and the two of us walked up the stone path where we encountered several servants working on the garden. 

Beck took the liberty of knocking, and a familiar face opened the door. You looked right at home in a simple, green dress that still covered your feet. I noticed you kept your hairstyle and, now that I could get a proper look at you, had the tiniest bit of lipstick on your plump lips.

“Well, if it isn’t Huckleberry Finn. Or, Huckleberry  _ Bascom _ , I should say.” Beck greeted from beside me. We both winced at this, me more than you.

“Hello to you too, Bobby.” You stepped aside to let us in with a smile only I could detect was fake, and I let out a laugh. “What’s so funny there?”

“It’s  _ Beck _ , Huck. Not  _ Bobby _ .” I continued laughing. Beck joined in good-naturedly, and nudged me in the ribs. “Hey!” I struck back.

“You look beautiful, Huckleberry.”

He always seemed to know what was going through my head.

“Th-Thank you,  _ Beck _ .” I got a genuine smile this time as you led us inside and shut the door.

Beck looked at me, and I nodded. He went off, leaving me somewhat alone with you for the first time in a whole decade.

“What do ya say we sneak out and go fishing? Huh, Huck?” I questioned, rolling on the balls of my heels. Before you could answer, someone got behind you and put their hand on your shoulder.

“I think we’ve had enough of your antics for one night, Mrs. Thatcher.” It was said with a grin and a kiss to your cheek, but it still felt like I was being mocked somehow.

“That’s Tam alright. Oh! I forgot to introduce you. Henry, this is Tam Sawyer I’ve been telling you about--”

“Oh, I know. And it’s a pleasure to meet her formally. But we have other guests, my Huckleberry, so if you’d be so kind as to greet them while Mrs. Thatcher explores a bit, that would be sweet of you.”

You looked like a fish out of water, so I relented. “That’s alright. Go enjoy your party.” I pat your hand as I left, swearing to myself I’d never say ‘goodbye’ to you again.


End file.
